Tag Archives: Christ is All

It is absolutely true that a work of grace changes the human heart; that grace leads to holiness. Yet, such one in whom grace truly works never trusts that change as a basis for redemption. The more the heart and life are transformed, the more clearly one sees the need for Christ’s merit:

“Again, a trust in change of life is evidence of unchanged heart. The Spirit leads not to such rotten ground. He never prompts such arrogant conceits. The saintliest man increasingly sees evil cleaving, as the bark to trees—as feathers to the fowl. He knows no hope, but Jesus’ life, and Jesus’ death. This is the fire, which God prescribes. And this alone the child of God will bring”

What peace! Jesus consents to suffer all. Each vial is outpoured on Him. The fire finds its prey, and spares not. Believer, see the Meat-offering on the altar, and let your every fear subside. Gaze, and let tranquil peace lull every anxious thought. Wrath ends in Jesus. It takes its dues from Him. It leaves Him not till all is paid. Its sting then dies. No penal woe remains for you. Justice forbids, that punishment should twice be asked. You may look calmly on the fiery lake. A suffering Christ has quenched its flames for you. Happy believer, your sins, though many, have endured their death. Happy believer, where are hell’s pains for you? Your Surety has exhausted all.

Sin ! The sound is brief. But it presents a dark abyss of thought. No mind can trace its birth. No eye can see its death. Before the worlds it scaled the heavens, and dragged angels down. In life’s first dawn it entered Eden and slew innocence. It ends not with the end of time. It ever rolls an ever-deepening course.

Reader, think much of sin.

It is earth’s death-blow. It marred the beauty of a beauteous world. It stripped it of its lovely robe. It caused the soil to harden; the leaves to wither and decay. It turned fertility to weeds, and armed the brier with its bristling thorns. It made the clouds to blacken, and the storm to rage. It raised the tempest’s roar, and plumed the lightning with its forky wings. It placed its foot upon a perfect workmanship—and left it a disordered wreck.

Reader, think much of sin.

It is man’s ruin. Its most tremendous blight fell on our inner life. It drove the soul from peaceful fellowship with God. It changed the loving child into a hardened rebel. It robbed the mind of light. It rendered reason a bewildered maze. It made the heart a nest of unclean birds: a spring of impure streams: whirlpool of tumultuous passions: a hot-bed of ungodly lusts: a den of God-defying schemes. It is the malady—the misery- the shame of our whole race. It is the spring of every tear. Each sigh, which rends the breast,-— each frown, which ploughs the brow,—each pain, which racks the limbs, are cradled in its arms. It is the mother of that mighty monster–death. It digs each grave in every grave-yard. Each widow and each orphan tastes its gall. It fills each hospital with sick. It strews the battlefield with slain. It is the core in every grief. It is the worm which gnaws the root of peace.

Reader think much of sin.

Its terrible destructions die not in the grave. There is a region, where its full-blown torments reign. It built the prison-house of hell. It kindled quenchless flames. It forged the chains, which bind lost sinners to their burning beds. It sharpened the undying sting of an upbraiding conscience. It arms the jailer—Satan, with his scourge. It bars the hopeless in that outer darkness, where weeping ever weeps—and wailing ever wails—and teeth for ever gnash-—and all is woe, which knows no respite and no end.

Reader, think much of sin.

It works this bitter and eternal anguish, because God’s curse attends it. It raised a rebel-hand against His will. It dared to violate His holy law. It strove to lay His honour in the dust It trampled on the statute-book of heaven. Therefore God’s anger fiercely bums against it Hence every misery follows in its rear. He must be wretched who has God against him.

Reader, here is a picture, in which all horrors meet. Regard it with an earnest eye. No fiction colours it. No power can over paint tbe terrible reality. No artist’s skill can represent a flame. The awful truth exceeds report. The lost writhe out eternity in fully learning the deserts of sin.”

The eager offerer puts his hand upon the victim’s head. Leviticus 1.4. [“He shall lay his hand on the head of the burnt offering, and it shall be accepted for him to make atonement for him.”] Do any ask the meaning of this rite? It graphically shows a transfer….

Here is again the happy work of faith. It brings all guilt and heaps it on the Savior’s head. One sin retained is misery now and hell at last. All must be pardoned and brought to Chirst. And He is waiting to receive. His office is to be this burden bearer. His love constrains, and He cannot draw back.

Do any read this, who have never dealt thus with Christ? Sirs, where are your sins? They adhere tighter than your very skin. They have millstone either. They press to misery’s unfathomable depth. But flee to Jesus. He can remove them all, and He alone.

Believer, where are your sins? On Jesus they are placed, and you are free. I ask again, Where are your sins? You answer, “As far as the the east is from the weset, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.” Ps. 103:12. You may rejoice and sing aloud, Christ is accepted for me. I shall not be condemned. Thus, with one hand faith casts away all misery and with the other grasps all joy.